


Only Human

by the_lonely_one



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-11
Updated: 2016-02-11
Packaged: 2018-05-19 16:00:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5973354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_lonely_one/pseuds/the_lonely_one
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hermione has been captured and her life has changed... for the better? No Time Travel. OneShot. OOC-ness ahead. Dark wins!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Only Human

**Author's Note:**

> (A/N) #1: So, I've posted this on FF and since I've been here for a while and haven't posted anything I thought this could be perfect to start writing here.   
> (A/N) #2: English is not my first language so I must apologize for the errors  
> (A/N) #3: It doesn't contain explicit situations (in my opinion) but it's pretty much palpable and readable as such so if you don't like reading that kind of stuff you should probably read something else, enjoy! C:  
> (A/N) #4: It is inspired by Christina Perri's song Human (so if you want to hear it, I believe it goes well with the fic)

The Dark Lord had chosen her. True, her two best friends were dead but he ‘spared’ her life. She didn’t know why though, she might have been the ‘brightest witch of her time’ but in the eyes of the Lord, she was a mere muggleborn; even if he claimed to be pure, he was no better wizard than her, he was as pure as her. Bellatrix would visit her regularly, just to make sure she was being tortured; usually she was the one providing the torture, Hermione would stay awake all night just because of the pain. Not once had the Dark Lord came and visited her, she didn’t know if it was for the best or because he expected her to be dead already _. Maybe he should come and make me be dead, that way I’ll be reunited with Harry and Ron,_ she thought, _no, that would be too merciful on his behalf._

Finally, after months of torture and scarce food, she was released only to be escorted to the Lord’s Manor. The one to collect her was Draco Malfoy, he wasn’t thrilled to be her escort but he had no choice, he had been asked by Voldemort himself. _Maybe it’s my time to die_ , Hermione thought, _took him long enough_. The Manor was huge, one large metal gate was delineating the property and the main house was two story tall. It was a dark day, the clouds were shielding Hermione of the sun, she missed it dearly; the house looked even darker than it already was. Gothic features adorned the edges of the windows and some gargoyles could be seen.

She entered the Manor with her hands tied. _Are you for real?_ , she asked in her mind, you _have my wand, what would I do?_ Malfoy was pulling the ropes in her hands and making her move faster. She was scared, not of death, she wanted to be dead; she was scared of meeting the Dark Lord. Hermione was pulled out of her thoughts when she heard someone clearing his throat. She looked to the person that made the sound and found herself in the presence of Voldemort. They were alone, she checked her sides in hopes of finding Malfoy but he had left them alone. Hermione looked back at the Lord and realized he was not exactly what she expected. In the battle he was an old bold man without a nose and serpent-like red eyes. She noticed her reaction and tried to dissimulate her surprise by lifting up her chin and defying the Lord with her eyes. Voldemort chuckled at her attempt.

“You seem afraid and still you dare to defy me” he said “should I be amused or angry?”

She remained quiet. He had noticed her change in attitude when she saw his appearance; he had returned to his twenty-one year old self, he found it had been his most appealing years and witches couldn’t help but throw themselves at him. Hermione closed her eyes when she saw him approaching her. Her fists closed and were held together with great force, her nails started to hurt in her hands but she embraced the pain, it could help her pretend not to be intimidated by the Lord.

“Do you like this form?” he asked her “Don’t be ashamed, I know I am handsome” he raised his hand and touched her cheek when he saw her blushing.

“What do you want from me?” she managed to ask.

“You’re in favor of elves, right?” he said “Since you seem to hold those disgusting creatures in such high regards, then you must be willing to fulfill their duties when they are freed”

Hermione gulped and stared at her captor. H _ow could such a handsome man be so evil?,_ she asked herself; he was a brilliant student too, _Head Boy of his generation_ , she remembered, she was attracted to his wits, not to mention his appearance too; but she kept remembering his madness and the recent deaths of her best friends to try and ignore her attraction. _Am I so twisted that I still find him incredibly attractive?,_ she asked herself.

“I’m going to break you and you’ll be asking for death” he said, his eyes seemed to turn red once more “and once you do, I shall break you a little more before I finally get rid of you”

* * *

True to his words, the following year Voldemort had Hermione doing all kinds of chores. She was his personal maid. There came a time in which she stopped caring and was beginning to think of begging for her death but the reminder of her friends stopped her from humiliating herself. The Dark Lord was starting to give her more dangerous tasks, such as preparing potions that would make a Death Eater recover from serious injuries _. Snape said you were a very brilliant potions student, it’s only fair to give you the chance to prove yourself to me_ , he had said after three months of her service. Hermione didn’t mind, making potions was, in some way, having her magical traits recognized, and it helped her cope with the tasks. After every potion successfully made, Voldemort would grant her permission to read one of the books in the library; most of them were focused on the Dark Arts, but a handful of them were actually pretty attuned to her likes. _Thank you Master_ , she’d reply every time he would give her a book.

By the sixth month, Voldemort had asked her to move into his room, claiming that sometimes he needed someone to fetch his things. Hermione would stand by the door waiting for Voldemort’s orders. At first she tried to sit but the Dark Lord would get so angry he started cursing her. After the curses he then took care of her injuries, claiming his number one servant shouldn’t be seen with scars. She would then force a smile and pretend everything was fine, she’d learned that playing the part of the perfect servant would grant her more pleasant encounters with the Dark Lord. Still, she couldn’t help but think when it went wrong with him; had it really been the love potion that forced his father to conceive him, the one responsible for his lack of human emotions, or was it something else that triggered his ignorance towards feelings?

* * *

 

By the ninth month, her attitude had changed drastically, mostly due to the ‘kindness’ the Lord showed her. He would place a new book in the library every week just for her; he would ask for her opinion on some trivial matters regarding the Death Eaters, sometimes he would ask her to sit with him while he ate, a plate suddenly appearing when she accepted his proposal. Her situation reminded her of Beauty and the Beast, though she seemed more like a beast regarding their appearances; he would be the true beast regarding their personalities. Sometimes she didn’t understand his moods; though it had been scarce the times he would torture her for no apparent reason, the times when he did torture her were harsh and it left her body tired and bruised. Though Voldemort would take care of her suffering, her fear of him grew at a slow rate.

The eleventh month came and that’s when he started asking her for some _other_ services. Their first time had been unexpected, at least for her; though he had managed to make her feel relaxed. His sudden rush for human contact had come after the ransacking to one of his Main Houses. His Death Eaters had been surprised and dangerously injured, some of them didn’t make the trip to San Mungo. He had entered _their_ room and grabbed her viciously; Hermione hadn’t put any effort in trying to get him away from her, she had known him long enough to understand his moods and she knew Voldemort was too angry to let her dismissals through.

“Give yourself to me” he had commanded her; Hermione followed his instructions and soon, all her clothes were on the floor.

The Dark Lord started to trace her body, his calloused hands touched her cheeks gently and soon his lips followed his fingers. He nibbled her neck while his hands pressed on her chest, massaging them and giving Hermione the only pleasure she had never known. His hands started to go down her belly and found her mound. He grabbed her bundle of nerves and touched it in a way that made her squirm in pleasure. She wasn’t the most expressive of girls but he had found a way to make her act so unlike her. Kissing his way down, Voldemort ended up in front of her lower lips; he tested her sensibility by licking slowly and being rewarded with her gasps and spasms. He had entered her with one finger and her juices had exploded in his mouth, she tasted sweet. After a few more strokes he had added a second finger and then a third; her contempt wasn’t unexpressed, she had been moaning loudly.

“Is this really your first time, pet?” he didn’t expect an answer, he could tell her answer just by looking at her.

Voldemort had stopped his ministrations and let her take a few moments to catch her breath while he undressed himself. Hermione was anxious, this was her first time ever being that intimate with a man; her skin had become more sensitive with his touch and she had to stop herself from asking for more. The Lord had taken her legs and placed them around his waist, his manhood was twitching with need; he forced her eyes open by lifting her arm and then kissed her furiously before he pushed all the way inside her. Hermione did cry a little, but the Lord ignored that fact and started moving.

* * *

Hermione was experiencing so many sensations, she didn’t know what to do with herself; one minute she was moaning and the next she was bursting up in ecstasy. The Dark Lord wasn’t finished with her; he wasn’t satisfied yet. He had turned and lowered her upper half till it touched the bed, leaving her _behind_ up and ready to be filled. He grunted beside her ear when he filled her nether region once again. She gasped in pleasure and curled her toes; Voldemort started biting her shoulder, she had another orgasm. Finally, when he found he was at his limit, he laid down on the bed and let her ride him. Hermione didn’t know what to do at first, but after a few encouraging thrusts, she started to move as if she were on fire.

“It’s coming” he whispered on her ear after she laid on him, her chest was touching his and it made her nipples harden even more. He kissed her forcefully when his release came.

“Go to sleep” Voldemort commanded after recovering his breath.

Hermione was nervous, he had never asked her to share the same bed. She had her own makeshift bed in their room, for he always wanted her to be by his side, just in case he needed something during the night. The Dark Lord noticed her discomfort and turned to face her; Hermione was startled by the peaceful look in his eyes; she had never once saw his eyes having a different color other than red, his were dark grey. His black soft hair was framing his beautiful eyes, adorned by long lashes. His face reminded her of the Adonis; sure, this man was the real thing but he was so handsome, he couldn’t be real. His straight nose, his squared jaw, that provocative Cupid’s bow on his mouth; she wanted him to ransack her body again.

“Don’t let this mislead you, you are still my servant” he said. Then the illusion was broken, how could she be so susceptible to his words? Hermione Jane Granger was a fighter, she needed to stay alive and find a way to kill him, she owed it to herself and her friends.

* * *

She was being promoted again, it seems that her year with the Dark Lord had been prove of her loyalty towards him; she wanted to puke. Yes, she still found him incredibly attractive, but the last month leading to the completion of her first year of ‘service’ had proven to be the most difficult. After their first _interaction,_ he had taken her at least four other times; not that she was complaining, but she had found it harder to resist him after every single one of those passionate moments. He had said nothing would change, but after that first night, not once had she returned to her makeshift bed.

Her tasks had incremented, not only was she making potions but after a long talk with Voldemort, she was now helping him find a way to replicate the Philosopher’s Stone. His megalomaniac tendencies had reached a new level of craziness; he was not satisfied with having one last Horcrux, he now wanted a safe bet towards immortality. She didn’t complain, while she researched Flamel’s notes, she was finding a way to kill him, or so she thought. The truth is she didn’t want him to be death. _What are you thinking of, Hermione? He killed Harry!,_ she reprimanded herself once those thoughts returned, _the world would be a better place without him!_ She sighed loudly, he noticed it and walked until he was in front of her.

“What is wrong, my pet?” he asked her. Hermione shook her head and moved to another pile of books.

* * *

It was the anniversary of her second year serving him when she noticed her true feelings. He was having a ball in the Mansion, in honor of defeating the Resistance. The group had been a nuisance since their forming, but once he cut the main head, the others started to fall almost immediately, quite literally. It was the first time since she came out of her cell, that she’d seen Bellatrix or any other Death Eater. As his servant she was expected to be paying attention to her Master and attend to his every need. She was standing against a wall, looking over the Dark Lord, just in case he needed her. She wouldn’t admit it to herself but she was mesmerized with his charms; he had managed to convince Britain of his ways. Though he had changed his views on muggleborns, he still thought muggles were dangerous. He had placed a law declaring that all muggleborns should be registered and evaluated on their performance three years after their graduation. Those that weren’t exceptional were stripped from their wands and either killed or enslaved; things weren’t looking much brighter for Half-bloods but they had more time to prove themselves.

He had been dancing with Bellatrix all night long, not once had he left her side. Hermione had been watching Bellatrix’s straight forward flirting. _She’s married!,_ Hermione shouted in her head, _she should show more respect to her husband_. Voldemort didn’t seem to mind Bellatrix’s flirting, it seemed as if he was encouraging it. _She’s a pureblood_ , she told herself, _what else would you expect?_ The end of the night approached and all the Death Eaters were already gone, the only one left was Bellatrix herself. The Dark Lord had, for once, told Hermione to stay with the elves since he wouldn’t be requiring her services for the night. She didn’t even reply, she had found herself in such a shock that she hadn’t realized Voldemort was gone, Bellatrix stuck to his side.

Hermione made her way to the elves shacks and roomed with Brisa, a little house elf that was in charge of bringing the meals to the Dark Lord. Brisa lend her a blanket and even offered to share her bed but Hermione wasn’t having it; she appreciated the offer but decided it was best if Brisa got her sleep comfortably, she and the other elves had it harder. Brisa insisted but Hermione kept denying and basically ordered her to go to sleep. The brunette waited till Brisa was in a deep sleep to get out of the shack with the blanket. She entered the Mansion quietly and made her way to Voldemort’s room. She was reaching the room when she heard it, Bellatrix’s screams. The mad witch was screaming, not in pain but in pleasure. Hermione wanted to scream but she stopped herself with her hands. She then made her way back to the shacks sobbing silently.

The loud sound of someone apparating woke Hermione up from her slumber. She opened her eyes and found the piercing gaze of the Dark Lord. She looked at him for a second before she realized it was her Master looking at her, she then stood up almost immediately and noticed she was not in the shacks. Her feet were bare and she could feel the dryness of the leaves under them, the sun was nowhere to be seen. She cleaned the faint line of saliva near her mouth and tried to remove the wrinkles on her clothes. Voldemort approached her and grabbed her arm before apparating back to the Mansion.

“Why were you in the woods?” he screamed at her once they reached _their_ bedroom. “I told you to stay with the elves!”

“I’m sorry Master” she replied frightened. “I was taking a stroll after the ball and just feel asleep”

“Your arms are red, were you hurt?” he asked more calm.

She remembered her attempt to forget her sadness by scratching her arms and feel a more bearable pain. “I must have slept over some sticks…”

The Dark Lord didn’t believe her but he didn’t push the truth out of her either. He grabbed one arm and with his wand, he healed it before proceeding with the other one. He then kissed his way up to her neck but she stiffened. He stepped back to watch her and saw her tears streaming down her pale face. He tried to touch her hair but she started to tremble, so he stopped himself.

“What happened pet?” he asked concerned; she had never been this nervous, not even the first time he had taken her.

“I have many chores today Master, I should get going” Hermione ignored his question and tried leaving the room but Voldemort grabbed her hand and spun her around to face him.

He was going to yell at her again but desisted, she wasn’t in shape to receive his aggression. “Don’t forget to meet me back at the library when you finish, we need to continue the research”

* * *

 

She was in the library, she tried to delay it but she couldn’t. Voldemort was sitting on a couch reading a thick book when he felt her presence. She was trying to be silent but he would notice her anywhere, he had developed a special ability to sense her. He closed his book and sighed loudly; she then stiffened and made her way to her pile of books, she had chosen them the night before the ball. Voldemort approached her from behind and circled her waist tightly, Hermione gasped surprised but tried not to let her nervousness show. Her attempts were futile, the Dark Lord had learned her ways.

“Why are you so nervous, pet?” he asked her and then tried to kiss her neck but Hermione had moved it away unconsciously.

“I’m sorry Master” she whispered “it has been a while”

“Don’t lie to me” he said “tell me what’s wrong” he commanded her. Hermione downed her head in submission; Voldemort turned her and made her face him, he could see her tears starting to form at the corner of her eyes.

“I’m sorry Master” she said “I’m just worried about the research” she tried once again.

“I said not to lie to me” he tighten his grip on her arms and she flinched at the sudden pain.

Hermione looked at him in the eyes and stopped restricting her tears and sobs. She lost her balance so suddenly that Voldemort’s grip had eased and made her fall down. Her shoulders were moving uncontrollably and her hands had found their way to her face, they hid her crying face away from the Dark Lord’s gaze. Hermione tried to stop her sobbing but she couldn’t help it. The Dark Lord knelt down to face her, he grabbed her hands and kissed them; she stopped crying for a second and looked into her Master’s eyes.

“Who made you cry like this?” for a second she thought he was worried, but she reminded herself that Voldemort didn’t have any human emotions, he was a cold hearted demon.

Hermione had remained silent after his inquire, the Dark Lord tried once again but it had the same result. She had stopped sobbing but her eyes were still tearing up. He had shook her shoulders trying to get a response out of her but with no avail. Hermione then stood up and curtsied before running to a near room; _anywhere will do_ , she thought, _just take me away from him_. She made her way to his room and closed the door, she noticed her surroundings too late, but she cared not and just let her body fall close to the door. Her sobbing started again.

“I can’t do this” she spoke to no one “I’ll just have to find a way to make him kill me”

She hugged her legs and downed her head towards her knees. After a couple of minutes she had lost her consciousness and her body had fallen, abnormally, softly on the floor. Voldemort had entered the room after looking for his servant all over the Mansion; he couldn’t quite explain it himself but he wanted to comfort her. He looked at the body lying on the floor and recognized her face; he smiled and carried her to the bed. He took a few moments to stare at her reddened face, _why was she crying?,_ he asked himself. He would have to wait for her to wake up.

* * *

When Hermione opened her eyes, she was staring at Voldemort’s peacefully asleep face. He was snoring lightly and she couldn’t help but smile at his sudden human appearance. She had never woken before him so she had never heard him snoring. She tried to leave the bed but found herself caged within his muscled arm; _he had planned this beforehand_ , she thought, _of course, why wouldn’t he?_ , she said to herself, _you’ve been running away from him and you think he will let you leave as you please without an explanation?_

“I see you’re awake” his husky voice near her ear startled her, she had unconsciously turned her head while she thought. “Now, I would like to hear why you have been acting so strange lately” he demanded.

“My Lord, I’m sorry, I don’t know what you’re talking about…” she said trying to evade the question.

“I didn’t want to do this, but you leave me no choice” he said before whispering a light _Legilimens_ and entered her thoughts.

Hermione made the trip with him, she relived the ball’s night. She saw him going with Bellatrix to their bedroom, again. She watched as her Master dismissed her so coldly and she observed as her past self, climbed towards their room and heard Bellatrix’s moans. She re-experienced her unrestrained sobbing and her attempts to feel something else to forget the reason why she was crying that night. She remembered all the things that led to her poor performance in front of Voldemort and her failed efforts to try to evade him.

“So this is why…” he said to himself. His arm had retracted back to his body and he had turned his back on her.

Hermione was a crying mess again, she didn’t even try to stop her sobbing. _He knows_ , she thought, _hopefully he’ll kill me_. Her hands were on top of her face, and her eyes started to itch, the tears were too many. The Dark Lord then turned to face his servant and fought hard not to let his instincts to take over, he wanted to take her; but she needed something else. With a sigh he grabbed her hands and kissed them away from her face. Hermione didn’t bother to look at him, she was waiting for his curse.

* * *

“Master?” she wondered when the Lord hadn’t killed her yet.

“You are so silly, pet” he said amused “really? Jealous of that parasite?” he smiled and then grabbed her head and placed it under his chin “Have I not shown it enough?”

“Master?”

“I have been smitten by you, my pet” he kissed the top of her head “somehow, you have made me human” he said “I do not appreciate it, but I can’t seem to stop having this craving to touch you” he said caressing her arms “to feel you” he nibbled on her neck “to kiss you”.

He had made his way up to her lips and without a hesitation, he kissed her hard. He played with the lips that had made him lose control. He grabbed her by the neck and forced entrance with his tongue, she was surprised by his actions so she didn’t put any resistance. _Voldemort is kissing me_ , she said to herself. He chuckled between kisses, he was still listening to her.

“She was in an illusion” he said, her glazed eyes suddenly focused on him and her head cocked to the side in confusion. “Bellatrix, she was moaning to an illusion” he smiled “she actually thought I was into her”

“But Master…”

“My name’s Tom” he said “use it, it won’t come off”

He smiled before he captured her mouth with his and started to kiss her again. She didn’t voice her other questions, there was no need; he wanted her and as his servant she would be glad to comply with his wishes. He danced with her, the most ancient dance ever known to human kind. And, as she was feeling all those amazing sensations, the only word coming to her mind was his name.

“Tom!”

 


End file.
